Wr1tt3n0ne

Bunches and bunches
2020-05-06 23:59:27 (UTC)

Half Lit, All Truth

I live my life in the half light of sunrise or maybe sunset. My character being too light and nuanced to stand the direct hot sunlight of mid day and my heart being repulsed by the darkness of true night. My home is made in the half light, where some inexplicable, and some pure dwell. My soul settles in right where I belong. I have no desire to be pure enough to exist in the hot sun, reduced and laid bare. Nor does the horrors of the blackest night suit me. I do not wish to explore the dark, merely letting it lap at my feet and my thoughts, idly until it oozes into my actions. I am unmoved by it. Without darkness there can be no light. My darkness is sweet and cloying like a port wine, decadent and immoderate. I admit I adore it almost violently.

Black satin on my thighs, it is a purring in my throat and I want to consume it. It is cake dripping down my tongue, syrup on my fingers, and the ferociousness of the first bite of a summertime strawberry. My darkness is the edge of pain and pleasure, of the teeth on my neck, at once both dangerous and sublime. How could anyone wish to live without it?

My lightness is my laughter until tears well in my eyes. The absurdness of life and living ironically colliding in a hallway. It splits my sides and becomes my wonder at the unrelenting beauty of it all. Innocence and air, flitting about singular in my aim and blind to subtext. I glow and into my life comes people simply drawn to that clear flame. I'm charming, utterly delightful. A butterfly flitting about on a light breeze and equally fleeting.

So my dear readers here we live together in the first rays of the morning sun and the last rays of the day, laughing and tracing fingertips along each other waiting for the darkness to descend. Come and lay beside me.




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